


Dancing For Your Life

by NannaSally



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 02:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23169055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NannaSally/pseuds/NannaSally
Summary: Servalan's Dance of LifeNote: spurred on by interview with Sascha Mitchell aired May 26 2020
Comments: 17
Kudos: 7





	1. Little Girl Dancing

“Yes, very nice. Take it away.”

At least in this modern age of artificial wombs or surrogate parent it was no longer necessary for an Elite Alpha mother to suffer the indignities that pregnancy and birth forced on one’s body. Leave that to the faceless masses. What did they know of the importance of Presence and Presentation?

One Acknowledged Child was enough. The other parent chosen for whatever benefit could be brought to the Offspring. The gender assured.

It’s upbringing arranged in advance. This parent had done her duty to the Federation and could now live her life as she preferred.

*************************************************************

The little girl listened as her nanny, one of a series, read her favourite fairy story over and over again. It was something she was sure she would never grow tired of. A hero, a victim, a rescue, a happily ever after. What could be more romantic?

She danced the story while her servants watched. They dared not refrain from applauding her attempts at grace. She wore the pretty dress, the delicate shoes, the sparkling headdress common to one her age. She danced the part of the Hero and she danced the Victim. Which one would she be? Whatever came about this would be her life.

As a young girl she attended dance lessons along with many of her peers and friends from school. She learned the classic dance steps taught unchanged for centuries. She learned to control her wayward body and move with grace across a room no matter what shoes she might be wearing. She moved with her companions upon the stage for the annual concerts and hoped to see her parent in the audience. Her nanny was there, dutifully applauding her as ever. She wore the uniform leotard, the dance skirt, the ballet slippers, the headband as required. She danced the Beauty, she danced the Prince, she danced the chorus. Whatever the teacher required she danced. This would be her life.

The young teen was forced to accept that she would never be a star ballet dancer, not even part of the chorus due to her body type and weak ankles. No matter how she practiced or argued this could not be overcome. However in her heart of hearts she was sure it was jealousy due to her beauty and pedigree and assured place in society. 

She danced on her own and insisted her servants applaud. There was grace there now, and acknowledged skill. She wore her stylish frock, her lovely shoes, her sparkly jewellery. She would find a new life.


	2. Student Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage Servalan dances the next step

The young woman joined the Federation Space Academy at 15, another arena where she could weave her skills and abilities. She emphasised her measure of grace, her capacity to work hard, her beauty and style, her place in society and her burgeoning sexual instincts to rise rapidly. She would dance the student, the learner, the follower. Whatever her career needed, that is what she would dance. 

She wore her uniform and boots, her gun and baton with grace. She learnt to fly a shuttle, she learnt to calculate risk, to handle weapons. She learnt the responses of authority. She discovered how to curry favour. She danced the steps of promotion. 

At 19, the lovely girl met a man, a fascinating man who seemed the Hero of her dreams. He spoke romance, he told the stories of her youth. He read the poetry that stirred her soul. He knew the words and the steps and she followed his lead. She would dance his dance and find her peace.

Lost.  
The man left.  
The reminder of his presence was handed off. A daughter.  
This dance had no happy ending.  
She would return to the dance of power.

The bright young cadet paid great attention to her lecturers. She learnt the history, she learnt the rules, she learnt to recognise treachery. She danced the steps of report. 

The betrayed escaped. But Servalan danced on.

**Author's Note:**

> I took notes from an interview of Jacqueline Pearce regarding her own life and thought about what it might mean if Servalan had the same kind of background.  
> Not completely though...


End file.
